


It Is What It Isn't

by Alastael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, M/M, POV Castiel, Poetry, angsty, poemfic, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:10:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alastael/pseuds/Alastael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't you, appearing before me like I might have to you, once, and your hands, on either side of my face, mouth close and whispering meaningless words like safe and home and family</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Is What It Isn't

 

What it _is_

is careful avoidance in the hallway,

the way you skirt around my presence at night

But it  _isn’t_ every morning

The way you look at me like a miracle,

As though you’re seeing me for

The first time and you are

Grateful

You smile, small,

And jostle my arm and say

_Addict_

As I pour my coffee.

It is the way I don’t respond,

And the fact that you will only hand me

Painkillers for my headache

And not let me get them myself

 

 

It  _isn’t_

My first black eye

Swollen shut and painful,

And the way I wince when your fingers

First trail along the bone

And you seem –

It  _is_  your low whistle,

_That’s a shiner, Cas,_

And the moment you pull your hands back

Like you’ve been burned

It  _is_ such a waste

 

 

It is the first time I wake

Screaming

Hands at my throat and

Burning but it  _isn’t_

You, appearing before me like

I might have to you, once

And your hands, on either side of

My face, mouth close and

Whispering meaningless words

Like  _safe_ and _home_  and  _family_

It _is_  without meaning, but

I find comfort there

Anyway

 

 

It isn’t the way we

Gravitate, slow and careful

Or the first time

You stay

Warm and heavy on the bedsprings

It _is_  the way

Something plants low in my belly,

A solid uncomfortable weight

Like sadness and there

Are no nightmares that night

Because I lie awake,

Watching

And I am reminded how human

I actually am

 

 

It might not be

The first time I reach out

Closing the gap with

My hand on your chest because

I have to know,

Your light missing and I have to

Feel to understand what before

I simply saw

But it is the broken way

You breathe my name like

You used to,

Though I don’t know if I really

Ever heard it before now

 

It becomes the way

You jostle my arm as

I get my coffee, your eyes light

And mischievous

And the way I smile, small,

And look down

Because it has never been

What we say

That defines us but rather

What has been left

Unsaid

 

 

And it isn’t

My first fractured rib and

The ghosting of your fingers along

Bare skin, the way

You stall, but

It is the way the touch lingers

Long past the moment

You stopped

Making weak flesh

Ache

 

 

It is inconsistent,

The tragedy of the everyday

But it isn’t these small things

The pants you wear,

How long your brother’s hair has gotten

Or the how many days it has been

Since I arrived

And never left

It isn’t the way you say

Those words with some light wonder,

Holding my hand in the hallway

Studious and focused

As though I’ll vanish the moment

You let go

It is the way I understand

Your hesitation

 

 

It is the way you jump,

Startled rabbit,

At the first press of my lips

Against your skin

Your neck taut against my mouth

And how quickly you

Let me go

It is the way shame,

A fear, or embarrassment

Burns in my chest

And the way you begin to look

Straight through me

Again

A betrayer reborn in

Your eyes

 

 

It is the way I pace,

Restless,

Confined underground and

_I never really wanted this,_

_Did I_

And it is the warm sting

Of saline when your face comes

To mind again

 

 

It is the way I leave

Without ceremony

And spend the night walking

Though I’d never tell you

It was in circles

But it isn’t

It isn’t

Your hands pulling at my coat,

My skin, pressing and

Insistent with angry thoughts, maybe

Angry words but what comes

Out sounds more like

A prayer

_Goddamn you, what is wrong with you_

_You can’t do that to me_

_You can’t, Cas,_

And it isn’t how

You trap me

In so many ways

Against you but your mouth

On mine is a comfort

Though brief

_Don’t go, don’t go, you can’t_

And I kiss again

The tense flesh of your neck and

Say,  _Never_

In every language I know

 


End file.
